Simplest Mistake
by Tribble Master
Summary: Premeditation will kill the trust, they'll never know if you fear me. Winner of the Most Depressing Halloween Wee!Chester Oneshot Contest.


The Challenge: To write a Halloween wee!chester one shot.  
Challenge issued by: Dean Winchester Presents...  
Contest: To write the most depressing Halloween wee!chester of all time  
Contest started by: Enviousxbeauty and The Tribble Master  
Judges: Dark Aero and Platinum Rose Lady  
Awesome BAMF Beta ARMY: LivingForTV,Scare4Irony, and David  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Or this happens.

**A/N: **I in no way apologize for this.

**Simplest Mistake**

Joseph Kerr had a movie star smile, and dazzling green eyes. Even though he had only lived in town one year he was always helping out at community events, happy to go the extra mile for a good cause. "I just want to help the kids." he always said. He kept to himself most of the time, living inside his quiet little house.

Halloween was his favorite holiday. Really the one day a year when he could be himself, and have a little fun. No matter what town he had traveled to over the years, Halloween always reminded him of his home. The festive mood and all the decorations had a way of reminding him of his mom, especially her cooking. She had always cooked caramel apples, with the perfect ingredients that made a sweet and tangy taste for his dad's last meal. He had not understood at so young an age why the cops had taken his mom away. He pieced together the truth from tattered newspapers that were thrown at him in the orphanage. Now every Halloween he continued the tradition of cooking her special caramel apples.

He stood in his kitchen preparing for the festivities, stirring his pot of caramel and laughing. His green eyes twinkled with a morbid enjoyment as he thought of all the fun he'd have tomorrow tonight. He looked up at his cupboard and pushed aside the rotted ingredients until his fingers closed on the one he wanted.

He poured the odorous powder into the sticky sweet goo making it fizz and boil.

Joseph reached over to his pile of apples. He grabbed the juiciest one and shoved a wooden stick in its middle. The caramel coated every inch of its shiny skin, ensuring no bite would be without its succulent flavor.

As it cooled and crusted on a wax covered baking sheet he snickered.

From his basement he heard a muffled yell. He set down his apron and sighed. There were so many things to do if he was going to be prepared for Halloween.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam peered out the window of the abandoned house they were currently using as home. He saw Joseph Kerr on his perfect lawn arranging leering jack-o-lanterns. "Dean…" Sam whined. "Can we go twick 'er tweating?""

Dean barely glanced up from his comic book. "No."

Sam sighed and walked back over to the rotted living room and plopped down in front of the boarded up fireplace. He shivered in the drafty house and looked at Dean pleadingly. "But Deeeeeean, I wanna have fun."

Dean looked up at him. "Sammy." He huffed. "Dad said no. Especially with the disappearance in the paper yesterday."

Sam frowned. "I won't get lost!"

"Yeah right." Dean said looking back down on his comic book. "It's for your own safety."

Sam pouted; all he wanted was to have a little excitement.

o-o-o-o-o-o

John Winchester's black leather jacket was a poor excuse for wound cover. He pressed the gas pedal harder and took another sip from his whiskey bottle. The alcohol dulled the pain in his side as he raced home to patch himself up. The poltergeist had been an easy fix, but stitching up his side would be harder.

He swore again as each movement reminded him of the uncomfortable wooden stake jutting from his side. He gripped the wheel tight with one hand and the whiskey with the other as he sped down the cold highway.

John was already drunk when he burst through the door of their home half an hour later. Dean looked up at the sound of squelching tires, excited to see his Dad. When John limped through the doorway cursing everything that moved, Dean frowned as he realized there would be no family time tonight.

He knew well enough to stay the hell away when John was drunk like that and quickly grabbed Sam, taking him to his upstairs bedroom.

"What're we doing Dean?" Sam blinked owlishly.

Below Dean could hear something breaking and angry yells. "Nothing." Dean said nervously. "Just hanging out… erm, want me to read you a story?"

Sam jumped off the bed. "Nah. I wanna show Dad wha I made in class t'day…"

"Sammy, wait!" Dean tried to hold him back but the kid was already scampering down the stairs. Dean followed him down trying to stop him to no avail.

John was sitting in one of the large living room armchairs finishing the last stitch in his side. He cut the last string, completing the job just as Sam bounded in front of him. He groaned and pulled his shirt down to cover up the wound that now needed a bandage. "What?" he growled.

Sam grinned and held up a colorful rendition of their family. "I wanna show ya wha I made …"

John hissed between clenched teeth. "Not… now…. Sammy."

"But Dad…." Sam whined.

"I SAID NOT NOW." John roared using the back of his hand to slap Sam across the cheek.

Dean, who had been standing back, shot like a rocket to his brother's side. Sam bit his lip as tears welled in his hazel eyes. Dean put a hand on Sam's shoulder pushing him behind Dean.

"Dad," Dean started to say, knowing he'd regret it later, "Can Sam and I go out-"

"I don't give a shit." John groaned while waving a dismissive hand. "Take your brother outside as fast as you can, Dean."

Dean herded Sam out of their father's presence. "Hey Sammy," Dean dried his tears, "good news. We are gonna go trick or treating after all!"

Sammy sniffed and gave a half hearted smile. Dean took his hand as they dug through their clothes for something that half resembled a costume. With barely a second glance they ran out of the house clutching two pillow cases and a white bed sheet.

Dean hugged his leather jacket tighter. He smiled down at Sam who was running in circles with a sheet on his head. "Boo!" the kid kept laughing.

They stopped at the first house, just across from theirs. The warm porch was inviting to all children. Dean leaned against the porch banister as Sam knocked.

Joseph Kerr opened the door and laughed at the miniature ghost. He bent over with his tray of caramel apples and handed one to Sam, who took it eagerly. Joseph stood up and noticed Dean. "Want one?"

"No thanks." Dean shrugged. "C'mon Sam."

Joseph watched them leave, taking note of the where they headed. He smiled. All he had to do was wait. Soon enough, after dark he could search the streets for fallen kids and strays. He'd done it enough times that his practiced method was turning into an art.

Sam and Dean were a block away when Dean announced, "Sammy, give me the apple."

Sam frowned. "Why?"

"It'll ruin your teeth." Dean said firmly, holding out his hand.

Sam reluctantly handed it to Dean who immediately took one huge bite of the sticky sweetness. He coughed and glared at it. "This tastes a little funny."

Sam rolled his eyes and tugged on Dean's sleeve leading him to the next row of lit houses. Dean continued to munch on the apple despite the odd after taste.

After nearly twenty houses Sam was tiring out. Dean groaned as he felt his stomach churn. He looked down at their worn pillow sack that was full of candy. His limbs were heavy and suddenly his head was bursting with pain. "Let's go home." He grimaced.

Sam looked at his brother, who was turning very red. "Dean? Y'okay?"

"Urgh…" Dean dropped his candy and fell to his knees shaking. "Fine. Give me a minute."

Sam knew that something was wrong but he had no idea how to fix it. He shook Dean's shoulder. "Wassamater? Get up, Dean…"

Dean stood up. He wobbled a little as Sam tugged on his sleeve. "Sorry Sam…its okay, its okay…"

Sam gathered up the candy back into his pillowcase. He dragged it next to him as he helped Dean walk towards the direction of their house. Dean was clutching his stomach trying to focus on a coherent thought and forgot to tell Sam when to turn. They ended up lost in the dark town as their candy spilled out behind them.

"Where're we Dean?" Sam looked around the darkness but couldn't see anything familiar.

Dean's vision was starting to blur when he looked up. Shrugging, he pointed a shaking finger to the building in the distance. "Shelter…" he coughed.

Sam led them to the barn where they crashed. He prayed that Dean would be fine. If only they could stay put until morning light… everything would be okay, he thought.

He shivered in the cold night air. Next to him, Dean was trembling. Sam cringed when he heard Dean start to retch and vomit into the hay.

"S'm…" Dean groaned. He face was flushed and his green eyes were glossy. He weakly took off his jacket and handed it to Sam.

"Take it…" he said softly

Sam tried to put the jacket back on his sick older brother.

"No…" Dean pushed it away. "It's too hot."

Sam, cold and confused, pulled the jacket over his sheet costume. Next to him Dean fell onto his back, too weak to move. Sam cursed his earlier wish for excitement; he'd rather be home right now.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

John was still sitting in the oversized armchair when he woke up with a start. The alcohol had receded to be a faint numb at the back of his mind. He realized suddenly, that Sam and Dean were outside on Halloween in the dark.

John cursed his rotten luck and stood up even as his aching joints protested. He threw out the bloody bandages he'd left scattered around the room and the empty whiskey bottles.

When he saw his watch he was instantly worried, it was 11:30 at night. Dean, he thought grumpily, must have gone out with school friends. He sighed, the kid was only ten and he was already trouble. John knew he'd have to teach him a lesson sooner or later. He rolled his eyes and grabbed his coat to go search for the kids.

He stopped at his neighbor's house first. He pounded on the door until the attractive thirty something year old man opened the door with a tired smile. "Hello?"

"Hi." John rushed the formalities. "I'm looking for my kids; I think that they're lost."

John fumbled with his pockets and withdrew his battered wallet. He yanked out the picture he had and shoved it towards Kerr. He took it and had to hide his smile as he recognized the taller one, the brother to the little kid he'd given one of his mother's apples to. These looked like easy targets if he could find where they were hiding.

"Why no," Kerr frowned, "I haven't seen your children at all. I'm so sorry they're lost."

John sighed. "You sure?" He shoved the picture in his pocket and began to gesture. "One's about this tall and the other one is just a runt…"

Kerr frowned. "Oh no, that's just awful. What were their names?"

John ran a hand through his hair. "Sam. The little one is Sam, and the older is Dean."

Kerr leaned behind the door to the coat closet. He pulled out a flashlight. "Let me know if I can help."

John looked down and thought about it. He was pretty sure that the kids weren't in any real trouble, and help would be good. But still, family business needed to stay in the family. John grumbled a curt 'No' and left for the next house.

Kerr watched him leave. His lips twitched into a smile as he grabbed his coat. _Bingo, _he thought. Now he just had to find them first.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam bit his lip and looked over at Dean who was curled in a ball now twitching violently. He looked up startled when he heard a car approach. Hope fluttered in his chest.

The rusty barn hinges opened to reveal Joseph Kerr in black slacks and solid purple tee-shirt. It may not have been Dad, but any hero was fine by Sam. He looked up. "Can you help us?"

Dean groaned. Kerr just smiled. "Sure, Sam."

Sam realized suddenly that something was wrong. "How do you know my name?" he gasped.

"Your daddy sent me to help." Joseph Kerr held up a piece of candy. "And you left such a nice trail of candy for me to follow you here."

Sam looked from Dean to Joseph. He still wasn't sure, something was quite right… But Dean needed help badly.

"Looks like your brother ate too much candy, huh son?" Kerr asked as he strode in.

Sam's eyes widened when he saw the shovel in Kerr's hand. "M-m-maybe…" he stuttered.

Kerr smiled. "It looks like your brother just needs to lie down for a while."

Sam backed up close next Dean.

"Six feet under." Kerr hissed as he advanced.

Sam shook Dean's shoulder. "Dean! Dean! Get up please!"

Kerr lifted his shovel and swung. He hit Sam across his back, and Sam fell. "Don't worry," his green eyes twinkled, "you can rest, too."

He set down his shovel. Then he grabbed Dean and Sam by their collars and dragged them around the side of the barn. Dean struggled to fight past the haze of pain that was raging in every nerve he had, but could hardly move. Sam swung his arms wildly and managed to scratch Kerr's hand.

He hissed and relaxed his grip. Sam ran away from him. Kerr kicked Dean down and hissed. "Stay put while I find your brother."

Dean whimpered, but didn't struggle. Kerr looked around the open space. "Kid, you got fight, I'll give you that. But that won't change anything."

Spotting Sam he ran over and grabbed Sam as he tried to sneak towards the main road.

"You're not going anywhere." He hissed pulling Sam's hair, guiding him towards his car.

Once Sam was firmly stowed away in the back seat, he returned to finish his work in the make shift graveyard. He picked up his shovel from the barn and went back to Dean's frail body.

The kid was as good as dead; he'd be no fun to keep.

There was an order to these things, he had learned by trial and error. Brothers were a rare find, but well worth it. They relied so heavily on each other that hurting one brought the other closer. Tonight was no exception—Sam was clearly weaker because he stayed back to help his gone-for-good brother. It was a shame though that he couldn't keep them both.

Joseph hummed as he dug the shallow grave.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam pounded his fists against the window. He saw Kerr leave and turned to look around the car. He dug through anything searching for a way to escape. He found a hammer under the passenger seat and brought it down on the window.

After several attempts he managed to break the glass. Throwing a blanket over the window's edge he crawled out with minimal cuts on himself.

Sam held the hammer firmly as he rounded the corner.

Kerr was lost in his happy memories. He was having trouble deciding if he wanted to cut off the runt's toes first or his pudgy fingers. It was not like the kid was the only one he had picked, he realized. There was another one waiting back at home in his basement.

Sam raised his hammer and brought it down on Kerr's knee.

Kerr fell and dropped his shovel. His anger flared as he turned around to look at the little kid who dared defy him. Not once in ten years had any kid hit him back. He lost control of his temper and started to punch Sam viciously.

Sam yelled and pounded his tiny fists against Kerr, trying to hit anything. Kerr raised his arm again but stopped. His fist shook but he took a deep breath. Later, he reminded himself, later.

He grabbed Sam and took him back to the car.

Below them Dean lay half covered in dirt taking shallow breaths. His limbs twitched under the earthen blanket as he tried to reach his hand out. "…s'm…?" he breathed the word like a prayer and held onto his last hope.

He faintly heard a car start and then pull away.

He fell back into his grave as loose earth tumbled from the walls to bury him a little deeper.

o-o-o-o-o

John rubbed his head tiredly. It'd been an almost completely wasted hour asking again and again for people who had seen his sons. He had tried to give them as much details as he could, but he didn't know what they had dressed up as. He finally discovered the old lady on Patterson Street who'd seen two young kids walking by. She described an image from his nightmares as she told him that the bigger one had been leaning on the little one, who had dropped candy as he walked by. John thanked her for her time and quickly found the trail. He had discovered the old barn half an hour later and suddenly realized how awful his earlier thoughts had been. Dean wasn't with anyone out here. And he prayed Sam was still with him. He hated Halloween a little more with each step he took.

He walked in to the barn, ready to collect and reprimand his children for doing something so dangerous but stopped short when he saw the pool of blood that drizzled across the hay. There was bile on one stack of hay, and just seeing it made him sick. He followed the evidence around the building to an empty field out back.

John steadied himself for the signs of his children but all he saw a large pile of dirt with a shovel sticking out. He walked over to it and saw the open grave. Who ever had dug it had been interrupted by something and had left their work unfinished. Half covered in dirt was a body. A small hand was sticking out the dirt, and just the tip of someone's nose and lips.

John began throwing the dirt aside as he clawed away at the grave until Dean's body was uncovered. John leapt into the grave and dragged him out coughing and sputtering. John shook as held his dirt covered boy closer gently brushing dirt from Dean's face. "Dean, c'mon son, you gotta tell me- Where's Sam?"

"…said … he likes fighters…" Dean coughed. The poison wormed its way through his veins, his blood was oozing from all the places he'd been hurt tonight.

"Who, Dean?" John asked while wrapping his coat around Dean.

"…guy from…house next door…" Dean spit out blood. His green eyes wandered over John's face, puzzled.

"Dean," John shook Dean gently to keep him conscious, "what's wrong?"

"Don't feel so…" Dean's eyes rolled back in his head as he fell limp in John's arms.

John had a choice he realized as he ran numbly to the car. He could either take Dean to the hospital and pray he found Sam in time or he could let Dean lie in the backseat while he drove to the place where he was pretty sure Sam was being held.

John made his choice as he put the key in the ignition and the Impala sped away down the darkened road under the moonlight's guidance.

Looking over his shoulder at Dean's pallid complexion he swore, wishing once more that he had stayed with Sam and Dean this evening.

o-o-o-o-o

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back and forth. He looked out the basement window and saw the moon's pale glow. He whimpered again as he felt the bitter pain of his bruises. His right eye was swollen and his knuckles were bloody from his failed defense.

Upstairs, just a few steps beyond him he heard Kerr's voice. And then Sam's insides froze when he head the terrible scream of something dying upstairs. Was it the cat that he'd seen on the porch? Or the scrawny kid that had been dragged out of the basement when he'd been dragged in? He prayed it was Kerr screaming but trembled when he heard Kerr's mocking laughter.

He hugged himself harder as he thought about Dean covered in dirt in the grave. Sam knew deep down, that he was destined for a shallow hole next to him. It was all his fault, he thought glumly, he'd made Dean go the extra block. If only, if only, he hadn't upset Dad. Dean wouldn't have taken him out, he wouldn't have gotten sick. He looked up as he heard footsteps. The wood creaked as a hand reached out to open the door.

Sam bit back a scream, forcing his body to shrink further into the corner. He looked down at the dirt and scratched out the last words he'd leave in this place, 'Happy Hall-o-ween.'

**.:The End:.**


End file.
